


Vor means -

by RGmolpus



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2019-09-27 23:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RGmolpus/pseuds/RGmolpus
Summary: Vorbataille and Tarpan of 'Winterfair Gifts' get caught - after they've been _really_ naughty.My thanks to Rose_Milburn for her wonderful AU of Ivan Xav Vorpatril Voralys. I thank her for for letting me play in her yard.





	1. Truth in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ivan and the Armsmen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303994) by [Rose_Milburn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Milburn/pseuds/Rose_Milburn). 
  * Inspired by [Another Innocent Bystander](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569879) by [Rose_Milburn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Milburn/pseuds/Rose_Milburn). 



> I'm assuming that it's about four weeks between the Emperor's Birthday and the events of 'Winterfair Gifts'; the pearls were purchased about two weeks before they were delivered to Vorkosigan House, and I'm adding two weeks to that to let our villains do their things. 
> 
> Ivan has to recuperate as well...
> 
> Luca is a _very_ mean person from a _very_ mean background. Impsec would love to hire him as an instructor - but.....
> 
> (What he plans to do is very possible, but he's a trained professional, don't try this at home!)

"Vor means Privilege" is what Luca said when he was deep into a bottle of expensive gin.

"I mean, back home, on the Whole, I get privilege 'cause I wear a badge that shows I'm with Bharaphutra; everybody knows not to mess with me, 'cause if they do, my Manager has a budget to bust noses and break arms to keep our reputation as a House that's got to be respected safe." he burped.

"Here, you've got the same thing with those three letters in your name; V - O - R and everybody knows not to eff with you; 'cause you've got a team of tough boys to eff them right back.

It's all about who can be effed with, and not; but you gotta know who has more pull and privilege than you do, when the it's getting hard."

He poured himself a shot from the bottle, Vorbataille hadn't seen anyone since the end of boot camp who could keep walking the level of liquor down the side of a bottle like Luca - who was the hardest-headed man he'd met on Jackson's Whole.

"Like, I know not to mess with anyone from the big five houses; or a few of the middle-sized one; you knew not to mess with Ryoval when he was around; he'd buy your contract and cram you into his bio-mil and whatever was left of you'd be on sale in one of his bordellos two month's later - gaahd - he was a mean bastard; we had a big boozer when it came out he was dead and Fell had bought him out. That was a mean and crazy bastard, Ryoval was."

"Tha's what I mean about V-O-R meaning privilege; with those up front, people know not to mess with you; 'cause you'll mess with them."

Tarpan picked up the bottle, draining it with one long pour.

"This is gonna be nasty, Bat m'boy - Drink all you can now, 'cause if we're caught, it's bread and water for the rest of time."


	2. Starting to run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they wake up, they get the news that emperor Gregor is safe, and that Vorresiak is dead. They get ready to scoot!

Luca was the first to start moving, well past sunrise. The morning light was flooding the room in the little Ranger's cabin; too bright for eyes that still were preserved by several bottle of high-grade Gin.

He looked at the slumped form of Louis Vorbataille; kicking him off the bench onto the rough floor. "Geet up, you Bastard; light's burning and we've got to get moving." The sound of Vorbataille hitting the floor caused his head to throb.

Vorbataille used the bench to lever himself upright; eyes blurred and hair swirled by an unusual breeze. "Damn, did you have to do that? Got any coffee ready?"

Luca stared hard "You want coffee - start a pot yourself. We've got to pack up and scoot to somewhere else as of twenty minute ago." he shoved his datapad into Louis's face.

The screen read 'Emperor safe, Count Voralys in critical condition.' Vorbataille grabbed the pad, forcing one eye to focus on the smaller text 'At the Emperor's birthday ball, an intruder slipped past Impsec screening with the help of Lord Marcel Vorevreaux. Count Vorguriyev and Lady Evelina Vortien were killed by the Assailant, a 'Omar Vorresiak' before an attempted assault on the Emperor. Count Voralys blocked Vorresiak's charge on the Emperor, and was stabbed by him during the melee. Vorresiak was killed by Count Voralys's fiance, Lady Raine Vorfolse, saving Count Voralys's life. Several others were arrested for questioning as possible accomplices in the matter. Impsec has not divulged their names, but Lord Nigel Vorolney and Lord Marcel Vorevreaux were both seen being treated by Impsec medics as the matter was being settled." 

Vorbataille almost dropped the pad; "Marcel arrested?! Evelina dead?! I knew that Vorresiak was crazy, but he tried to kill Gregor?!? Impsec's never going to stop until we're.... in the Grand Square...." his face gone white.

Luca took the pad from Louis. "If they've got Nigel, they know about this place, and the lodge. So, we've got to skedaddle out of here for that other cabin, over the border. Grab your clothes, and be on your bike in five minutes; I want us rolling in ten." He gave him a shove to break his stasis.

He stumbled to his cot, and started to shove some clothes and cold weather gear in to his duffel. As he moved, his confusion ended, focusing on what he'd need, and not, to deceive ImpSec when they started searching the cabin. He sat to strip off his thin shoes, to pull on a pair of tough boots, shoving a set of slippers into the duffel along with two heavy shirts. A few more items, and he slapped the closing shut - now out the door and to the bikes.

Luca followed him down the steps to the Levbikes; strapping two large bags onto his; as Louis strapped his onto the rear of his. Gloves on, helmets secured, and they turned to race away from the cabin, down to the main road to get lost in the occasional traffic.


	3. The Emperor's Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delivering invitations to the Emperor's health resort and spa.

0500 hours, Central Barrayaran time  
6000 meteres above the Basinji ridge  
Assault LiftCraft E-0109 'Scrubweed' 

"Listen up, Chickadees; the Emperor has decided to invite some people to his health resort and spa, and you know how pouty he gets when his invitations are turned down. We've got the honor of delivering the invitations; so we've got to be super polite, you hear me, Chickadees?" The Lieutenant had a sense of humor... or so he claimed. Everyone in the squad was studying the briefing on their heads-up displays; not really listening to the Lieutenant; this wasn't an unusual mission. They trained in hostage rescue and safe take-down of high-value criminal targets; this being a real mission and not a training exercise was appealing.

The Lieutenant paged to the next graphic in the set; "The puppies we're gathering are all in this mountain cabin; two story with thick wood walls. Chimneys and fireplaces on each end; deep porches at the front an rear of the building, and a huge clearspace around the building. Note the three outbuildings, one seems to be a stable for horses. There are four surface vehicles parked close by; two liftcars, two wheeled vans.

We'll be dropping in two strings, landing zones about a klick away from the structure. Gather up, and envelop as normal."

One squaddie spoke up; "Lieutenant, the doors on the big house is probably really thick, like 20 cm of slab wood. We'll need to take the big knocker for this job."

"You know anything else about this type of building, Rasi? Listen up, Chickadees, Rasi's got some good news for us."

"Uh, if this place is like the country cabins back home, the windows are really thick - double or tripled pane. This time of year the shutters won't be closed, but if they are, they're thick as heck, to stand storm winds, sir. There may be big piles of wood on the porches, for the fireplaces, and any chairs or things outside will be really heavy, hard to move, they'd be good cover, hard to shoot thru. Probably block a stunner shot, sir."

"

"Hear that, Chickadees? Don't try to shoot thru the furniture, it may block the shot. Any other words of wisdom, anyone?

Right - Then listen to what we're gonna do to deliver these invitations. This is a gilt-edged job, so no excuses for anyone!"

.........

"One of the porch windows is open, Lieutenant." came from the drone operator. "Looks like Ravi might be able to do an underwear job to get inside."

The Lieutenant thought for a moment; sneaking inside for a quick game of stunner tag would be faster than the uproar of a door-busting entrance. they'd have control of half the house; speeding the operation.

"Ravi, Skin suit now. Osip, help him and be his backup. Team two: two of you investigate the horse barn. The sat disk is on the roof; see if you can grab the feed."

The sergeant of team two piped an acknowledgement; in the distance two grey shadows moved to the fence that made the corral at the stable. They slipped over the fence, and ghosted across the stable yard to the open doors.

Corporal Ravi, with the help of Osip, had shed his half armor and pulled on a tight bodysuit; the fabric seemed to create its own shadow; somehow darker than the limited light could illuminate. A small helmet covered most of his head, and thin soled boots covered his feet. On his belt was a small holster, a small pouch fastened on the other side. He pulled the small stunner, checked it's charge, showing the dim display to the Lieutenant and his partner, and waited next to the pile of his removed armor. 

Five minute later came word from the squaddies who had infiltrated the stables; they'd found the satlink controller, and had hacked it - the HQ IT squad had diverted all datalink traffic from the site; and were busy inventorying all the netlinked devices present. The Captain at HQ passed word that they'd seized control of the alarm system in the house; it wouldn't send any alerts or trigger any alarms. They owned the place.

Barrayaran operational rules were simple; the officer on site, in charge of the operational squad, had final say on every step. The officer who'd be Court Martialed if things went wrong had to be the one to decide when and if to proceed. Any superior officer could end the mission, but only the officer on the ground could advance the operation. The Lieutenant reviewed the important points; no sign of activity in the house, they controlled the communications; there was an apparent easy way into the structure - Go!

............

Ten minutes later his squad had full control of the building, and they'd taken eight people in custody - along with two dogs and an irate cat.


	4. Flown the coop, or Road Trip!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two guests of honor have not received their invitations, and people are miffed.
> 
> Not, however, the two guests of honor!

0945 CBT

 

The strike team was back in the air, heading cross country to a new location. Onsite forensics had found messages from Lord Vorbataille and Luca Tarpan on comsets, indicating that they were at a less remote, but anonymous hiker's cabin, about 10 KM away. The strike team immediately loaded and departed; in the hope the two targets were still present.

A quick orbit above the cabin was disappointing; if the targets had still been there some form of transport - a car, bikes, van, or _something_ mobile would be evident - and there wasn't.

Land, do a rush on the building - and hope.

\--------------------------

Twenty minutes later, the Lieutenant was reporting in to the Major in charge. "Sorry sir, we missed them by minutes; the coffee machine was still brewing a pot of coffee as we entered the house. They left a lot of their things, so they didn't have much time to prepare when they left. We'll hold until the forensics team arrives."

The Major swore a bit - orders had come from on very high that Louis Vorbataille and his companion, Luca, were to be apprehended in any physical condition practical. He'd never seen an order like that, it wasn't 'Dead or alive', but close.

"Right, hold until relieved; I'll have a Forensics team out to you ASAP. Return to base when relieved, Vorcant out."

\----------------

The Lieutenant has the pilot swing wide on departure; following the nearby main road for a few kilometers, hoping to see two bikes, or something promising, as they headed back to Taney base. The road was empty of bikes; and nothing was seen in the few turnoffs and scenic view sites along the road. His men sat stoically; they'd get the credit for the initial assault; the failure to grab the two main targets wasn't their fault, but was totally on late - bad intelligence from above. Few shots fired, no casualties, no injuries, this had been a perfect mission for all of them. Back to base, and first round is on the Lieutenant.


	5. A long ride to short gaines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vorbataille and Luca avoid notice.

The two of them rode south, further into the wilderness, for over an hour, until they found a service plaza. It was built to serve large freight trucks, along with vacationers and local residents. They pulled their Levbikes to the recharging station; Luca looked at the chargers with some concern until he saw that they were older, simpler models. He muttered to Vorbataille; "First lesson - we can be tracked by Impsec from anything that's talking to the data network; This charger, if it was newer, would record the serial number of the battery, and maybe the bike's registration, and Impsec could grab that to find us. You can't use a credit chit that's got your name on it, or your family name; that'll set off alarms the moment the clerk pops it in the read slot. We've got to stay anonymous until I can get us tickets off world. " He scowled at Louis as he finished using a credchip he pulled from a bundle he extracted from his cargo bag.

"I think I've only got cards with my name on them, except for one that's only got 300 marks on it; I think Nigel gave me that one last week when he bought some tubes off me. Will it be safe to use, you think?"

"Hmm... I've got enough to get us back to VBS with some to spare, and I can get more when we arrive." Luca was examining the area, fiddling with the straps on his bike as it charged. "It should be safe, until they start cracking on everyone's finances; and that won't be finished for a week or so, with everyone they've got to search. It's eight hours or more on the road to VBS, we'll have to stop to recharge once or twice, so let's use that card to pay for that stuff.

They got a grocery in that store? We need to get supplies if we've got to spend the night camping" 

"This sort of place has got everything in stock from eggs to campstoves; People from all over come into these mountains to camp and have fun all year round, and probably is the only large store for a hundred kilometers;" Louis pointed to the edge of the plaza " They've even got liquid fuels, Petrol and fuel oil, for people really up in the hills."

"Huh, haven't seen that for years.." commented Luca. he thought for a few moments, "OK, you go buy a pile of camping gear, and use one of your personal cards; I'll get some food, then we head back to VBS. We'll dump the camp gear soon, but it'll confuse Impsec, slow them down." Luca stared at Louis, his eyes hard as flint. 

Louis shifted back at Luca's orders; buy things with _his_ ID? He caught Luca's meaning an instant later; this'll start a false trail for Impsec's men to send them further away from Vorbarra Sultana, to give them more time to escape.

With the two bikes steadily charging, they headed across the plasticrete, stained with innumerable splotches of spilled fluids and stains of unknown origin. They grabbed shopping baskets; Louis headed to the Sporting goods and camping section to get the items Luca had described. Luca into the grocery section, his eyes darting in a reflex scan.

In the Outdoor Recreation aisles, Luis grabbed a two man tent, a pair of sleeping bags and inflatable cushions, two cooking kits and a small spirit stove, and two collapsible water jugs. He recalled the lessons learned on his last emergency landing drill, required of every racing yacht owner-pilot; He'd passed, but only after several uncomfortable nights in the wild, after an 'emergency' crash landing. He grabbed a box of light sticks, and several hanks of paracord line; along with two sets of the little clamps that made attaching things to the line easier.

Next to the camping equipment aisles was Automotive - Louis reflected on the absurdity of calling a department 'Automotive' when the old gas-burning metal monsters were long gone, but a name is a name, right?

He thought - automotive - batteries - _battery chargers!_ He shoved his heavy cart into the adjacent lane; there were a selection of individual chargers for all types of mobile batteries; a quick scan of labels found two that could recharge the packs on their bikes; straight from a residential wall outlet. If Luca was worried about being tracked at commercial charging stations, then they could avoid that with one of these.

He also found a power upverter, that could recharge small items, like their comsets, from the bike cells; Unfortunately, the store didn't have any power packs that would fit their bikes. He stopped in the Men's section, and bought several sets of rugged pants, and a heavier coat and new set of driving gloves before heading to the cash points.

He split his purchases into two stacks - one, with most of the camping supplies, went on one of his personal cards; almost draining it. The other pile, with the clothes, battery gear, and some small personal items, went on the card he'd received from Nigel; using a different self-serve kiosk to register the sale.

He looked at the pile of gear - how'd he ever pile all this on his, or Luca's bikes, but they could always buy more straps and tie downs....

\-------------

He met with Luca back at the bikes; Luca had two cooler chests, and two sacks of packaged food. He had shopped in clothing as well; new coat, pants, and shirts in one sack. He had to saddlebags; the two of them worked quickly to strap them onto their bikes, then loaded all the merchandise onto the bikes. Louis had some doubts that the bikes would stay stable - but Luca seemed confident, this would be tricky for a while until he adapted to the extra load on his bike.

The bikes at full charge; Luca gave orders: "First, we'll head back across the district border; into VorDanil's land. the map shows lots of little campgrounds in the area; we'll set up camp at one of them, then abandon it - like they scared us off.

Then we drive like crazy back to VBS; when we get into the outskirts I can call some people for help. We'll really go to ground in Vorbarra Sultana; it's easier to hide in a big city, and I can use contacts to get us out of here. Understand that?" Luca waited for the logic to fix itself in Louis's mind; "Then, we plan to really shove a finger up the nose of Vorbarra, Vorkosigan, or Voralys - all of them. My bosses back on the Whole will LOVE it if we pull off a stunt that hurts any of them, they're standing offers and deals against Vorbarra and Vorkosigan we can claim to make our retirement happy. 

You're not going home, kid; welcome to MY life" Luca grinned ferociously.

What was there to say? Louis swung his leg over his bike, and followed Luca out of the parking lot.


	6. A Family conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel Vorolney gets his entire families' attention.

Vorbarra sultana  
Imperial Security Headquarters  
Third Floor, Room Q-7  
1330 Hours

The Emergency Med Tech had stabilized his arm and shoulder at the Residency, after that Bastard Byerly Vorrutyer has almost pulled it out of it's socket. Damn that man - why I'd ever thought he was a friend is crazy. Now that he thought of the people who 'disappeared' after Byerly 'befriended' them - he's been an Impsec spy for years.

The sodding bastard - all Vorrutyers are multi-toed bastards.

Nigel couldn't do much but stare at the dull, pale green walls of the room the guards had left him in. He couldn't get up and move; being shackled to the chair and the table that were the only items in the room. The far wall was a one way mirror; certainly; and the cameras and microphones must be hidden in the ceiling. That was ordinary; big tiles of acoustic foam, stupidly common everywhere.

He was cuffed to the chair; it was chained to the floor. He could grab a mug from the table, or fill it from a carafe, but not much more. They - someone - had given him a few pain pills when he'd first arrived; at the Imperial residence a medtech had scanned his arm and shoulder to check for broken bones. The Tech had popped his arm back into it's socket, his shoulder was still swollen and very sore from Byerly's twisting. Sitting still kept the pain from getting worse; he wished he had one of Marcel's little blue vials.

There wasn't even a clock to tick away the seconds.....

====================

The door of the room swung open, a set of guards brought seven chairs in; two stayed taking up the corners of the room facing him. He heard footsteps, and the murmur of voices approaching - indistinct.

In filed his Father, Mother, and - oh god! his Aunts and Uncles! Aunt Martha, Uncles Ivan and Hebert - oh shyte! Cousin Auditor Vorparadijs! Not in his red and blues, but with his Auditor's chain in plain display.

His father sat directly across from him, Cousin Vorparadijs sat at the end of the table, closest to the door, his other relatives as they liked, with his Mother seated next to her sister, Aunt Daphne. 

A full Family Council. Everybody important in the family; This was worse than facing the Emperor's Judges - they could execute him, but the family in Council - they could... urk!

An Impsec staffer handed his Father a folder, then left the room, closing the door. It was himself, his family, and the two guards - and whoever was on the other side of the big mirror. Nigel knew that there were several cameras staring at him now, and plenty of microphones. 

His father took a page from the folder - "In Family Conference assembled, at the pleasure and agreement of Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, Long may he reign, the matter of Nigel Olney, of the Family Olney, raised to the Rank and Status of Vor in time Immemorial, is now begun. Nigel, son of this House, you are accused by the Emperor that you have freely, willingly, and with knowledge and malice, assisted persons named and unnamed, in the violation of the safety, security, peace, and ordered behavior of this realm, this District, and other Districts within this Empire. 

The Emperor has graciously and with understanding, agreed to withhold his considered judgement for your actions, until the Council of this House has decided on this matter."

His Father spun a sheet in front of Nigel. It was real paper - maybe parchment, with a Blue and Rose border. The Family Colors. 

There's one thing every Vor child learns from all the legends and folklore of the Time of Isolation. A real paper document, with a colored border, means everything's gone wrong. Treason at worst, leading to death by exposure in the Great Square, or excision from the Vor, or something equally bad. There was Count Vortille, who was ordered to kill his children to stop a plot to overthrow Ido Vorcasa; or Lord Vormullen, who had to abandon his family castle and live on the Massil plains or be executed. 

He didn't try to read the script, written in black ink; he just collapsed and slid under the table.

=============

Nigel woke lying flat on the conference table, a medic was just withdrawing a hypo-spray from his neck. His relatives were gathered around the table; his Mother holding his head. His Father was on his right side, holding his hand, rubbing it and spreading his fingers. As his vision cleared, he could see the dismay and concern on everyone's faces. The synergine dose was settling his heart; the light seemed a bit to high to his eyes; his mouth dry.

He tried to rotate on the table, to sit up with his legs hanging down; they helped his sit upright; and an Impsec guard put restraints on his arms; his ankles were still held together by cuffs. Impsec wouldn't take the chance that he'd try to flee, even in the depths of it's vaults.


	7. The Big Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Luca along the road to Voralys District, in the middle of nowhere.

The ride along the highway was easy traveling, the road was fresh, clean pavement and engineered to swoop around the turns and curves of the valleys and ridges. They rode thru a sea of tall pines and spruces, 30 and 40 meters tall growth; solid timber on each side of the highway. From the size of the trees, this was old terraforming; maybe dating back to the original efforts of pre-Time-of-Isolation settlement. There were intermittent turnouts, to roads leading up or down slope into the woods; with occasional signs stating the ownership of the land. The road slowly crept upward , at an easy grade, reaching to the snow line and the end of the forest cover. They passed trucks and vans; their bikes having the power to speed around the larger, slower vehicles with ease. 

Four hours in, Luca signaled that he wanted to detour in to the surrounding forest; at the next turn off they headed for about a kilometer into the forest. The pine wood was open sufficently for them to pull easily off the gravel road into a clearing; letting the bikes settle down to the soil once the lev coils discharged.

Luca took his helmet off, standing next to his bike. "Let's set up camp here, make some lunch, and get some rest. They'll have to hand search most of this to find our camp, if we make it cold; giving us more time to keep running."

Louis "I bought a small camp stove; can we use that, at least to boil water or heat soup?"

Luca gazed upward a bit; "Yea, a camp stove should be safe, but no campfire; Get the tent up, and hang the water jugs; Where's the stove, I'll get some lunch started."

Setting up the camp went quickly; Louis filled the tent with the mattresses and sleeping bags, unwrapping some of the extra items he'd bought and scattering them around to simulate a long use of the site. Luca unpacked his cooking gear, and made lunch, soup from a pouch, sandwiches from the groceries he'd bought. He handed Louis a beer, and they started eating.

"So, What are you planning? I want some revenge on Gregor, Vorkosigan, and Impsec - for what they did to Vorclarence - and all the rest."

Luca took a swig of beer "Revenge; that's a good idea; but we've got to get supplies to do anything worth the time. Did Clarence tell you of any cash he had stashed away, or supply dumps? I've got contacts in VBS, but I can't get any real money there. If I could get my hands on the biokit that Vorresiak used to make the gene poison he planned to use on the Emperor, that'd be a good start. Maybe make some custom things for all of them. I can make explosives, but we need cash for the supplies, and a workshop. We'll need cash to get off this rock, and at least get to Komarr; I know I can get support from back home to get to the Whole from there." 

Louis thought for a moment "I think I recall where Clarence said he'd cached some supplies for emergencies;" he smiled at Luca " We didn't really talk about things like that when we were together; but he gave me the name of a place in Prestwich to contact if I needed to disappear fast. I know that most Counts have big emergency plans to get hidden quick; back from old Dorca's day, when he'd send Bloody Pierre Vorrutyer after you if he got mad. 

Then, when the Ceta's came; everybody created ways to hide and be safe; I'll bet your Baron's back on the Whole have the same things arranged, right?"

Luca nodded; "Been a part of some things like that back home, Let's look at the map, see how we can get to Prestwich, if your guy is still there."

Luca unfolded a paper map of the area he'd bought at the shopping mall; it covered the region in decent detail, and had a small continental map in a section on one side. The map showed all the outdoor recreation area, for camping, snowboarding, skiing, and hiking. It was labeled "The Big Burn" Outdoor recreation and sport zone. This looked odd to Luca; on the map he could see a palm shaped line outlining a huge stretch.

Louis pointed to a spot on the lower part of the outlined area; "This is about where we are; on Highway 10. we can take this up to this junction, at Theobaldt, and go east on 15 to here" - he pointed at a crossing, " and change to 30. That'll take us directly to Vorclarence's district; all told it's -" Louis spanned his fingers across the map "about 650 Klicks to the border to Vorclarence's district. It should take us - eight hours to get to the district, not including a recharge stop."

"And we can recharge at this Theobald place?" Luca pointed at the spot.

"We should be able to; if what you've said about the messed up trail we left behind us slowing Impsec and all. There's an old chalet just on the Vorclarence border we can stop at for the night, before we head to Prestwich. I know the door code; we can recharge there overnight. Antoni took me there once, for a few days - " Louis stopped, not wanting to say more.

"Took you someplace private, did he? I doubt that the new count, Voralys, has sent anyone to check on the place; I bet he doesn't know he owns it. From there, how far to Prestwich?"

"With all the turns, about 150 klicks; there's a direct monorail from there to Vorbarra Sultana. It's an overnight service; so two days from now we should be in VBS."

"OK, that works. " Luca gestured at the heading on the map; "What's this 'Big Burn' thing? Something from the Cetas?"

"No - " Louis smiled some "Not from the Cetas; I'll tell you about it when - well, it's time."

=====

They stayed at the camp for a few hours, to make it lived in. They both took naps; then gathered the few things that Luca said to take - including some sandwiches and beer - before heading out in the early afternoon. Louis estimated that they'd be reaching Theobalt before it got to dark; there'd be plenty of guest resorts available for two riders at this, the tail end of the summer season.

The road swept around a mountain ridge; tall, aged trees on both sides. The view ahead was limited by the tall, mature trees; a slice of blue sky. At the end of the ridge, the road made a sharp curve; bending to the left at the beginning of a downhill slope. at the curve there was a large gravel parking zone, a place for one or two large trucks to stop and cool after the long uphill climb they'd made. To the right was a continuation of the trees, but just at the turn the land fell away, making the turn a pulpit - a crow's nest of - nothing?

Louis had throttled back before the turn, swinging into the gravel siding, to watch Luca's reaction. Luca's bike took the turn - and the view - the amazing, empty view, shocked him into a spin on the smooth asphalt. He skidded a bit; then stopped - not understanding the view from the side of the ridge.

Ahead was - seemingly - nothing - from the close confinement of the old trees, to an eternal emptiness, of open air that stretched from the depths to space above. The land, far below, and for more kilometers than seemed possible was empty; no tall trees, no clusters of bushes or hedges; just grassland to the horizon. The road twisted close the the ridges and hollows and the mountain sides; with occasional bridges, artfully tailored into the terrain, kinking up and down the ridge sides to maintain an somewhat even path. The air was so clear and empty that the highway was still visible, more than a dozen kilometers away; where., in the approaching evening, a faraway glow marked a village or town. 

Louis pulled beside Luca "Well?"

"What - _this_ is the Big Burn? What - how - happened?" 

"About a twenty years ago, the Military had a few warehouses full of thermobaric fireblast bombs that were getting to old. The Major in charge of the arsenal mentioned them to his grand-cousin, one of the Counts that hold this land. The Count, who was fighting with the Minister of the West about the cost of terraforming this part of his district; wondered if ImpMil would use those bombs to start a huge wildfire to burn off these hills; so the Terraformers could air drop grass seed and terraform this area in a year.

Louis waved his arm at the huge, empty space. "It was a crazy idea; but when two of the adjoining Counts heard of it, the idea suddenly seemed less fantastic. It took three years to plan everything; and two other Counts signed on - and the biggest blast ever on Barrayar was set off just ahead of us. They waited until the seasonal winds were blowing north, then Impmil used up all those fireball bombs, and a lot of other incendiaries, to start a forest fire that burned from here for four hundred and thirty kilometers, and almost a two hundred across. The only thing that stopped it was the annual rains that came two months after the burn started; if they hadn't come the burn would have stopped when it hit the north ocean shore.

As the fire burned north, the Terraformers came in with airdrops of grass seed, fertilizer, and lots of road building equipment to put this highway in. They didn't want to put in trees at first, - this was a big story in school when I was in my junior year - but planned to build several outdoor resorts, put in a few lakes between ridges, and open the area up for development."

Luca realized he wasn't really _seeing_ the vista; this turn in the road was so high, that it seemed to be floating above everything, almost in orbit - but so close - too close - to take in as a whole. He sat on his bike's seat, helmet off, looking across a chasm - into an infinity.

"The arguments about this raged in the Council of Counts for months; Vorkosigan forced Gregor to write a report every day on what the status of the debate was; to really get him to understand how the Council worked, and to drive home the long term effects his decisions would have; The Counts who's districts would be touched by the Burn were putting up much of the money, for the Terraforming and road building, and the other civic works; but this'd touch every other district, including the his own. The smoke from the burn would wrap around the planet; how would this increase medical expenses for the next decade or so? I had to write an essay on that in school."

"In three years, this road and two more had been put in, along with three Monorail lines, including a new cross-continent line, and five new towns scraped in; two to support mining in the Burn, the rest for outdoor recreation - Skiing, hiking, winter games. Two dams were built to make lakes, with hydro-power to support the new towns, and a lot of this is now a planetary park, never to be developed. We think big, don't we?" Louis sat back on his bike's seat, gazing at the open sky and land -

"This was the biggest news we'd ever had, after the celebrations when the Ceta's left. Before my time; it wasn't an Imperial event; this was _by_ Barrayarans, _for_ Barrayar; My Granddad and Dad grabbed contracts to make concrete, asphalt, Light posts for the roads; This put thousands to work, everywhere. This isn't something Gregor owns; it's _ours!_ " Louis thrust his fist in the air; militant, his voice a shout.


	8. Cooked until GBD.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel makes his case; it's filled with Whoopi cushions.

There's no boredom like waiting for the bucket to be kicked out from under your feet.

Nigel didn't hear much of what his relatives said; it didn't matter - he was due for death in some way, so bring on the man with a nerve blaster to turn his head into a cottage cheese fritter.

 

He jerked in his chair when his Father slammed his hand on the table, anger in his shaking shoulders. Nigel started to listen to the words " - the roses, son; you're getting a huge gift from Gregor, he's not sending your case to the Council, like Marcels'. God knows what his family's going through, they've been on the good side of the emperor since Dorca's Grandfather's day. We've pulled every string and favor we have to keep you out of the Grand Square, but we need a reason - from you - or something to show you weren't in cahoots with those idiot in this scheme to kill the Emperor. With anything as an excuse, we can save you from"; his mother sneezed and cried at this; "a chain around your neck outside this winter."

"We need a reason - something - to turn you from a conspirator into a hanger-on, to make a plausible case for you being a idiot, not a murderer!"

Nigel sat back in the chair; grabbing that one thought - he was NOT going to be a murderer. That's what the family was trying to arrange; something other than murderer for him. He wasn't a murderer; that creep Cezar had been, he'd known it when he first met him, over in Prestwich; Ghod, he and Vorclarence were both creeps. 

I'm not a creep, I've been an idiot, being with those people. 

' _I have to be an idiot now, and Da will save me._ '

He raised his head; "OK, I've been an idiot, running with creeps like Marcel and Louis. But I didn't help them with their plans; I knew they were plotting something, but they never let me in on anything, I stuck with Marcel to get poppers, and other drugs to help me shoot my 'vids, but I never heard them talk about their long-term plans. I was their personal 'Vid maker; I helped get them girls, sometimes boys, but that was it. "

"They liked my 'vids; they liked watching them being made; Marcel liked being in them, sometimes. Vorresiak never wanted to be in front of a lens, tho he enjoyed watching. He, Marcel, Louis, and Vorclarence sometimes talked about a great plan they had; but they never said what it was. I was shocked when the bomb went off, when Vorclarence tried to kill the Emperor; I had no idea he was that nutty! Nobody said anything to me about anything like that; they all grouched about how the Emperor kept playing favorites, was taking away the powers of the Counts, but that sort of guff is standard; I've heard you talk like that when there's a big fight in the Council, Dad."

Count Vorolney squirmed in his chair a bit; Uncle Vorparadijs leaned forward "So, Nephew, no one ever spoke to you about any plans to attack the Emperor? or to make poisons? or raise rebellion? All you heard was minor insults and grumbles? You'll say the same thing if you're given Fast-penta?"

Nigel looked directly at the Auditor, his uncle. "None of them ever talked about wanting to kill the Emperor; at least when I was around. Not openly, not in any way that was coded or secret." His mouth had no water. _'This was critical; they had to believe I knew nothing, ...nothing...!!'_?

"After the bomb in the square, Louis was frantic; he was running around in a frenzy, packing up and getting his racer refit; He and Vorresiak skipped out a few days later; I heard from Marcel that they were back, at Sylvi's cabin out in the back end of her Father's District, four days ago. I didn't think he was wanted for anything; so why should I report it?" 

Uncle Vorparadijs, leaned in; "Certainly, you had no reason to think any of them were especially wanted by the authorities... Bad Form to snitch on your friends, Bad Form. ... When you've no idea they've done anything unlawful."

"Nobody - and I mean NOBODY! - said anything to me about killing Gregor, or Vorkosigan, or anyone. I made Vids, they watched them, and that's all I did. They got me girls, and guys, for my productions; Marcel got the drugs and the locations; and I made vids for them. We pal'd around, partied, and that sort, but they never said anything serious about overthrowing the Emperor, or killing Counts, or revolution. If they did, I was too zapped to remember - and they'd have been equally zapped, so why'd I have a reason to believe them? 

_There; I'm an idiot. nobody told me anything, and if they did, I was too drugged to know._

Vorparadijs and his father leaned back; they seemed satisfied with the admission; being high on drugs was an ultimate excuse; chemically induced stupidity.

"I've never had to order a relative fast-penta'd, and I don't want to start with you." Vorparadijs growled. "With your admission of drug use, I doubt that you'd be able to account for anything told you in confidence by the other members of your group. I think Gregor will be satisfied with this. What you encourage those girls to do, in your vids... that's another matter; but no charge of treason can be applied - unless your vids were part of some extortion involving a person close to the camp stool?"

"Involve Ivan? or Miles Vorkosigan? Those two sticks in the mud? HA! Neither of them gave me the time of day; the closest I might have been is that rat, Byerly; he's what - Fourth cousin to Gregor? I don't think any Vorolney's closer than fifth cousin, isn't that right, Aunt Martha? You'd know, right?"

Aunt Martha glared at him; clearly furious that he'd been dragging the family name into the trash. She'd refused to recognize him for years; no birthday cards from her! Her frown showed her vote was to find a deep hole, for him to fill, excessively. "How close we are to Gregor has nothing to do with your failures, Nigel; Why you've been such a disappointment is my concern." The closing sniff was savage.

"Oh, you want to know _why_ I pal'ed around with Louis and Marcel? They appreciated what I did - they liked my vids, they helped me produce them; helped promote them - I wasn't a useless bit of Vor fat out on the street; They helped me, and I helped them.

Producing those vids was something I was good at - I liked doing it; I was _good_ at it. I did more than make erotica; I shot Keith Vortaine's wedding; and made a couple of advertising vids for Kathy Montrose's pottery work; one of them went to Beta colony as an advertisement; it's at the embassy. 

I was doing something I liked, something that I was good at - something that showed I was more than a dull drone - like that rat Byerly. He never did a decent day's work, being paid to rat on his friends by Impsec, I guess - I'll break his neck, if I see him again!" He shook his chained hands in fury; "That crapper's farked over more of my friends than I can count, now that I know what he's been doing. If I can ice him, I'll die happy in the square knowing I gait that twelve-toe for all and once!" He ended with a howl, smashing his hands on the table.


	9. Unka Clarence's Secret Stash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Luca find treasure.

They stopped for the night at Zweiridge; recharging their bikes at the motel. Luca pulled another ID card and credit chit out of his bundle to pay for the stay; In the morning, freshly fed and at full charge, they headed east across the Big Burn.

The ride was easy; 600 KM in a day on a fresh, open highway was the smoothest of rides. It was late afternoon that they passed the markers showing the boundary between districts; the sign read 125 KM to Prestwich. They stopped for a late lunch at the visitor's center for the Big Burn, Luca grabbed a handful of cards and flyers; this was something he wanted as a memory.

The border between districts had a large stone archway marking the border, and a pair of travel service plazas, along with tourist and visitor centers to catch travelers. The big sign that had said "Welcome to Little England!", with Vorclarences' signature in script, had been covered by a rudely made poster saying "Whee! Under New Management, Welcome Count Voralys!!!" In each huge parking lots were childrens' play zones, filled with climbing bars, swing sets, slides, and other entertainments for fidgety children to burn off the energy that'd built up over the hours. They stopped to take a break, get comfortable; Louis went into the visitor center to get a city map of Prestwich; Luca browsed the selection of tourist flyers that advertised all the things visitors could see... he though about seeing the same thing on old Earth; nothing like this on the Whole - tourists weren't really valued by the Barons...

Outside at the bikes; Louis narrowed in on two spots; one a location in the suburbs, the other a place close to the city center. "This was a long term safe house"; pointing at the suburb location; "There's an old couple who live in the main house, but the garage and it's apartment were stocked for a long stay. Clothes, cash, medicine, food, some weapons, stuff like that. This other one, close to downtown, was a bolthole; Cash, two cars -"

Luca interrupted "Any weapons? Did he tell you about any cases Marcel brought him from the Whole?"

"At the garage, I saw a locker with poison stickers on it; I - ah - didn't ask."

Luca though "The place downtown is almost too risky to visit, in the middle of the day, it looks too close to the local police HQ. It's - what - four blocks from the civic building, close enough for him to run there if shit hits the fan; Let's go there late afternoon when things are quiet... Maybe what I need is in the Garage place; I know Marcel and Cezar brought some chemistry kits from the Whole, I was supposed to train them and mix up stuff for them."

Louis developed a sour expression on his face at this - 

"Aww, don't worry; I couldn't have made much with the small stocks in those cases; it was more for me to demonstrate what could be ordered and tailored from back home... salesman cases, huh?"

"If Marcel had brought any cases to Antoni, he never told me. I carried drugs for him, but never anything mysterious. Antoni was planning something big with Marcel and Cezar, as I said, he didn't tell me." Louis slapped his bike to emphasize this; "He had something big in the works with Marcel, but he never said anything about it to me."

"OK, ok. Antoni kept secrets from you. He's smart to do that; a secret shared might as well be told directly to a cop." 

"We can get to Prestwich today, to the safe house, right? Tomorrow, we hit the other safehouse, see what it's got; then take what we can and head to the Capital. We'll ditch the bikes in Prestwich, take the monorail overnight, and then setup shop there. I'll lay out what I want to do - or try to do, tonight. That sound good?"

"OK, tonight in the safehouse, then grab all we can and head to VBS. The couple at the garage place know me; I think they'll keep their mouths shut - but it might be better if you give the passwords to them, right?" Louis offered.

"Ah, you're learning, kid." Luca smiled. "The less someone knows, the less they can tell. Once we're there, and inside, then it doesn't matter what they know, we've got them hooked. What's the greeting script?"

"We call them and say their pasta order is delayed; but the driver will be there in ten minutes. Ten minutes later, we call again to say we're arriving, two orders of manicotti, one meatball Stromboli. They'll say the order's correct if all's clear; if there's a problem, then it's that they ordered cannelloni, not manicotti. Then, we park at the garage apartment, they bring the keys, and that's it."

"Not bad; Two manicotti, meatball Stromboli, reply is order's OK. Where do we call from?"

"Anywhere inside of Prestwich, as long as it's before 2200. They go to bed early."

"Then let's ride." Luca disconnected his bike from the charger, stowed the charger cable, Louis did the same and they headed into the northbound freeway.

They stopped for the day at a small tourist court that catered to the tourist trade heading to the Big Burn; just another two weary road warriors. Luca paid, as usual; one room, paying for two cycle recharges, two breakfasts in the morning. Louis grabbed their laundry, using the little laundromat in the place; dinner was at a cafe a brief walk down the road. Sleep came quickly.

They hit the road early; Prestwich was about four hours hard riding away. Luca thought it unusual that there were no roadblocks or survey stops along the road; had they outrun the manhunt that had to be underway? He wasn't unhappy; but this escape seemed to be too easy... unnerving.

\---------

They crossed the Prestwich city limits at 1400; pulling in to a small diner. Louis ordered coffee for both of them while Luca used the diner phone to call the safehouse. They sat for the needed minutes, then Luca called again to get the reply handshake - all was well; they paid the bill and headed out. Twenty five minutes later they were pulling into the drive of a modest house; past it to the separate garage/workshop. An older man was waiting for them; Louis, with his helmet on, gave the recognition code; the man unlocked the garage door, not saying anything, and left. Louis and Luca moved their bikes into the garage, pulling the door shut - in safe, undercover.

\--------------------

With the door closed, they first hooked the chargers to power points; Luca inspected several large trunks stacked on the side; grinning as he read the labels. Louis, with some personal urgency, found the door and stairway to the apartment above; turning on the lights. The sound of a flushing toilet marked his satisfaction.

Luca went up into the apartment, looking at the windows - the shades were drawn, no sliding shutters. He shrugged a bit - he wasn't planning on being here for more than two days; if the place was bugged, that was the end of it. 

The apartment had two bedrooms, clean linen freshly made, a small washroom with shower cubicle, and a galley kitchen, Louis was inspecting the cabinets and fridge - the doors he's left open showed plenty of shelf-stable packages. "Want a beer?" Louis said, taking a long neck bottle out of the cooler, waving it in Luca's direction.

"Sure" Luca grabbed the bottle that was tossed to him. Twisting the cap off, he smelled the top, then took a swig "-Whoo! that's got some kick! This a local brew?"

"Yep, locally brewed, local hops, local water. Antoni couldn't stand the weak beer from other districts, didn't like wine, so he ordered the brewers to make really hard beer - you should try the Perry and Applejack Cider they make here. they'll put you in orbit." Louis took a careful sip from his bottle.

"Well, he could have exported this to the Whole, or Illirica; been making a lot of money selling to them." Luca took another long swig and burped with happiness.

"I looked at the cases in the garage; there's a complete gene sequence kit, and synthesis lab; and sample sets for a dozen nasties that can be tailored to fit. There's also a complete sabotage training kit; all sealed and unused." Luca looked distracted for a moment, randomly swinging his beer bottle around the room. "Tomorrow, we ship those cases to Sultana; then we visit the other safe house. Did you find any stashes of cash, or IDs?"

"No, but I've not searched the place. Antoni said this was the second place I should visit, if I was on the run -"

Hmm... Doing things bass-akwards. We'll need to rent a float truck to get these cases to the monorail station; which blows another cash card. I hope he left a big stash of money downtown, I'm running low."

"All we have to do to get these trunks moved is call a shipper service - they'll send a truck, and we grab them from their office in VBS. Neat, huh? No trouble for us; we list them as laboratory gear, test equipment, and that's all that's needed. It may take a week to get them to VBS, it's fingerprint free; and we'll have the time to get a place of our own ready when we want them." Louis's eye were large, as he imagined what sort of revenge Luca could conjure from those trunks.

"Hold on, cowboy!" Luca wanted to stop any apocalyptic ideas that Louis was birthing. "Until I know what's in those cases, I won't know what can be done. Then, there the matter of staying hidden; there's sure to be a big hunt for us; that'll slow us down; and actually doing something is hard - if we get caught, it's all over. I've taken a year to make an hours' action work properly; I think we've got three weeks for everything; and our first aim is escape, not blowing up Impsec, or anything flashy. Get your head out of the clouds; or you'll be in the box in a day."

Louis was miffed; he wanted to do _something_ to avenge Vorclarence. Luca riled was a bad thing; change the subject. "Well, we need to do laundry, and some sleep. There's a big selection of quick meals in the pantry; You get first shot at the shower, I'll get something hot. OK?"

Luca smiled at this; "Yea, we need a good rest; relax and start fresh tomorrow. Once we get to VBS, it'll be hard on both of us, You've never lived under a rock; hiding from the Law, we've got a lot ahead before we boost away." He took a last swallow from his bottle. "Man, this is some great beer; get me another - or two. I need to get a real buzz on tonight." He turned, heading to the small washroom, concentrating on the idea of hot water and steam.

Louis slumped; Luca was treating him like some specimen of servant, not an equal. He had to admit that Luca knew more about living on the run; and he had the contacts to get him off of Barrayar. "So, with what you found here, what revenge can you make on the bastards in VBS? Make more poison, blow something up, or what?" he said as he grabbed another beer from the cooler. "I want something grand; if I'm going to the chopping block, I want it to be for something big!"

Luca looked at him with a wry smile; "Oh, with what's in those cases I can have some real fun. If this other cache you know about have a pile of money, I can do even more. How about we brew up two hundred kilograms of something that goes 'BANG' in the Grand Square? Or under the Star Bridge? Or put poison in the dining hall at Vorhartung Castle? Those big enough for you?" His took a big swig of his beer to punctuate the sentence.

"Ah, you can do that? all of it? You've got that much explosive downstairs?"

"Naw, but with the cash and some time, I can make a big load of explosives. The problem is putting them where it'll do good; like in the sewers under the Square. Making the boomstuff is easy, finding a place to put it - that's hard. I've got the name of a contact in VBS that can help, I think. But this'll blow his cover, and it's got to be worth it to do that."


	10. Gregor, Impassive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the good guys know....

Common Operations Conference Room (Three)  
Vorhartung Castle  
Vorbarra Sultana  
0900

Gregor Vorbarra glared, in his mild way, at the men and women gathered at the conference table. Room Three was buried in the depths of Vorhartung Castle, a central place between the Counts and the Ministries. The air conditioning was working - magically! - making the room reasonably habitable. The table was filled with stacks of files, flimsies, photographs, and datatablets. As a sign of Gregor's unhappiness, the coffee maker in the room was shut off; only Gregor had a steaming cup in front of him, and a carafe filled at the residency.

"Report."

General Allegre, head of Impsec, stood; "As of 2315 yesterday, we have our first serious confirmation on the two men who fled from the forester's cabin in Vortiens' district. The leader, from Jackson's Whole, Luca Tarpan, is accompanied with Louis Vorbataille. After leaving the cabin, they tried to hide their trail by backtracking and creating a false camp. Since they departed, we've not had a certain knowledge of their movements; as we had nothing to definitively link them to any transport.

Yesterday evening, however, they left two liftcycles in Prestwich, both set to explode near popular spots. Fortunately, both were removed by Prestwich traffic services being illegally parked; they exploded at the Prestwich impound yard, destroying several other impounded vehicles, with no major injuries to the staff. 

The ID plates from both cycles were recovered, which is useful, as the ID numbers had been logged when the vehicles had been removed. From those, we could trace the movements of them, which led us to vid camera images of the two. Vorbataille we have images of, but Tarpan was a mystery to us. 

General Allegre waited for Gregor to speak.

Allegre pressed keys on his datapad; on the screens around the room, and in the 3d tank on the table images of a middle aged man, short haircut, thin nose, thin brows, and an undistinguished chin appeared. 

"Luca Tarpan, born on Illyrica, trained in their ground forces, qualified in their special forces and served for six years. He was discharged on medical grounds; he caught a variant of Marilacan Measles - and he hired on to a mercenary fleet as a hand to hand combat instructor. He left the fleet after a year, taking a contract with House Gerber on Jackson's Whole. This was about fifteen years ago. 

He was trained by Gerber as a deep penetration agent; and was leased out to other houses, mainly as a pathfinder, to prepare for raids on different planets and stations. In this he was very effective; he was leased to Randall's - Cavillos' - Rangers to gather information for their planned actions during the Cetagandan invasion. The Rangers had planned to do hit and run raids on Vervain, using the invasion to hide their activities. He kept his cover, and returned to the Whole once hostilities were ended. We discovered his involvement during our analysis of records gained from the surrendered Ranger's ships. 

Since then, we have indications that he's circulated among the Houses that needed secret operations; we have strong suspicions that he was part of the elimination of the leadership of the Jamail Irrusha party on Lairouba; a group that was a severe annoyance to the ruling Clans. 

In the current case, he was sent by house Bharaputra to oversee the creation of a drug smuggling and distribution syndicate in the Empire; overseeing the activities of Vorbataille, Voreveraux, and others. He was also involved with the activities of the person who tried to assassinate you, Sire; providing the custom tailored poison on his knife. This was an independent matter; seemingly ordered by Bharaputra in retaliation for several reverses they've, and others on the Whole, have suffered at our hands for the last twenty years. They expected to gain extravagantly from the actions of Randall's Rangers as they fenced their stolen goods, as an example. The Imposter offered them a plan - apparently feasible - for disrupting the Empire by causing your death; something the Ghem will pay considerable sums if it happens. "

He took another look at Gregor; pausing to invite comment.

"Tarpan and Vorbataille had made their way to Prestwich, where they used two caches left by Antoni Vorclarence; we found one of them; and expect to have the second located by mid morning tomorrow. The cache we did find had been stocked with false IDs, cash, credit chits, and other documents useful during an escape. We have a strong lead on the two of them leaving Prestwich for Vorbarra Sultana on the Monorail, departing at 1500 hours. They arrived in Sultana at an outlying station at 2200. Both men seem to be using some disguises to hinder the face recognition cameras in place. At the station they hired a taxi that took them to large hotel, but they didn't register there; they may have access to a safe house Vorclarence had established. We have excellent bio-metrics on Vorbataille, less so for Luca, but we now have a target for our search. Our analysis of Vorclarences' records, to reveal safe houses and cached supplies, is ongoing. Count Voralys's staff is cooperating fully in searching the records in the district and here in town."

Gregor looked a bit grumpier. It was four days since the attack on him at his Birthday Party, Ivan, his cousin, was still in a coma as the doctors fought to keep him alive; and the investigation into the rot in the junior Vor set was turning over more worms and slugs than he liked. Miles Vorkosigan was split between his upcoming marriage and the investigation of the Princess Olivia liner hijacking; the two Auditors he had available had been helping Impsec delve into this, mainly by using their Auditor's seals to breach the dataprotections Vorclarence had used to hide his activities. 

Gregor gestured for General Allegre to sit. 

"Auditor Vorkalloner, what do you have?"

Vorkalloner rose "Sire; my efforts, and those of Auditor Vorlaisner, have been on exploring the activities of Count Vorclarence and his family. Analysts in Impsec broke the main encryption key used by the family last morning, and we've been mining it to locate all the caches, bolt holes, and hidden contacts the family had developed. As expected, the family had a wide and intricate escape and evasion plan, dating to the last years of the Cetaganadan occupation, with additions and expansions during Yuri and Ezar's reigns. In this, they were imitation all other Counts and houses; We need some guidance on how to proceed if we discover plans made by sittings Counts; as that touches on matters political."

"Ignore anything like that; unless you've got evidence that the fugitives are using such. Keep the records small if you find anything." Several of the Impmil officers made notes on this directive. 

"Thank you, Sire. The details of the escape and evasion plans Vorclarence had are concentrated in his district, and here in Vorbarra Sultana; here in VBS they consisted of initial support and methods and means of departing from the city, and the district, with several planned routes to districts that were presumed to be friendly, or neutral. Cars, vans, buses, each stocked with cash, food, medicine, clothes, and new IDs. Vorclarence had several dozen former Impsec agents on his staff; supporting the proposition that these caches are all structured using the standard Impsec planning processes. this is making the search easier - we know what to look for. 

Vorclarence - Voralys House, here in VBS, should have several escape tunnels in place; most of them should be recently constructed, as the property wasn't damaged much during the Occupation, or during the Pretendership. We are doing sweeps of the surrounding buildings, but not intruding on Voralys house, waiting for the Count's permission. At least two of the nearby building are Vorclarence - Voralys properties; I expect they will be the terminus of any escape tunnels. Extra personnel are in place to monitor the properties, in the hope of catching Tarpan or Vorbattaille."

"Additionally, Simon Illyan has been of unofficial assistance, pointing out some obscure documents and plans of the city, to aid the sweeps and searches in progress. He had personal knowledge of many of the escape routes in place in the city, but those were lost when his chip was eliminated. He did create records of such, but had them filed under obscure indexes to maintain secrecy; he said at Captain Negri's suggestion. At his suggestion, Impsec and the VBS City services division are doing inspections of all tunnels and passages underneath or near to the major government buildings; so far several undocumented sewers and tunnels have been recorded. No real security risks, but sensors are being placed in them."

Vorkalloner rubbed his face. "Vorlaisner and myself have been in deep discussion with Impsec and Impmil special operatives; they tell us that until those two start making purchases, or start moving, we have little chance to find them. If they sit in a hotel room for the next three weeks, eating room service, they won't be leaving any evidence trail for us to find. Assuming they intend to 'Make a Mark', they should be in motion - but what type, and where is the question. They could be in VBS itself, or in one of the surrounding communities - several hundred square kilometers to hide inside. All we need is one footprint, and we can find them, but - "

Gregor finished "- but without that, they're invisible."

"Quite"

Gregor slumped into his chair, hands covering his face. Everyone stayed quiet as he thought. "Bataille is the one who really want revenge, for his lover, Clarence, and in reprisal for what he's lost. He knows if he's caught, it's a place of note in the Great Square, and no burnings afterwards. Tarpan may be upset that his main plans are busted, but he's a professional, and shouldn't hold a grudge; he should be expecting to be swapped back to the Whole after a stay in prison." Everyone at the table noted the omission of the Vor prefix from Clarence's and Vorbataille's names, notes to staff were made on that point. "Tarpan wants to escape, so he may separate from Bataille at some point, to arrange his surrender. Louis will try to hide as long as he can - hoping to get to Komarr, and then to the Whole. He'll want to do something big - blow something up, or cause a disaster - out of spite. Does this track with what the analysts say?"

General Allegre looked around the table; gathering nods from everyone. "We support your analysis, sire; Bataille wants a revenge, Tarpan wants escape. But Tarpan will be pressed by Louis to plan and create the act of revenge; as long as the two are together; they'll be trying to do something ... impressive."


	11. My spading fork for a Camera!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel changes his profession.
> 
> (My inspiration for this is the BBC series "Edwardian Farm". Nigel is being thrown back 150 years, woe unto him!)

Count Vorolney had a strong sinus headache; the growls from Aunt Martha and the scowls from Uncle Hebert, along with the perfume and cologne they'd applied today made his face seem three times to large. In addition to the problem with his son, Nigel, he had to discipline, or dismiss two of his Armsmen; Kravik, who'd been with Nigel for years had asked to resign; the most decent thing anyone in the family had done in this whole affair. 

He wasn't as bad off as Vorbataille - or the Vorguriev's - or the Vortiens'; he might be able to show his face in respectable clubs in two years or so; but! What his wife was facing - he'd be walking on eggshells around her for months; this year's birthday present had to be amazing! Men understood when a sprog went off the deep end, and made a terminal splat; but women! Oh, Women never forgot, never forgave, and liked to draw blood while putting the weak into their lowly place. 

That Vorkosigan woman - Cordelia - had sailed thru the disgrace of her son facing treason charges over that 'I made Myself an Admiral' affair twenty years ago; but being a foreigner, she ignored most of the glares and remarks the Vor Dragons had aimed at her. She had Lady Alys - Fine woman, the solid rock of Vor Womanhood! - at her side afterwards; finally people remembered how she'd lopped off poor Vordarian's head; and no one wanted to raise her ire.

He smeared the eggs he hadn't eaten around his plate a bit more; he ate a bite of some toast; good butter, and excellent strawberry jam on it, which sparked an idea. "Martha - didn't your place up in the hills once have a market garden for strawberries, years ago?"

Lady Martha turned her glare on him, incensed that she'd been dragged back to the Capitol to sit in judgement over that useless spawn of the Family. She'd often opined that Nigel needed a week of whipping, then a place on the South continent, burning off stranglevine, to sort him out into being a useful person. "Yes, when Uncle Joshua was in residence. He only had three good years out of it; then the Vorreedis put in a thousand hectares and ruined the market. The plots have gone wild. It's still possible to harvest a few pecks every year; I have my cook jar a few dozens every year for the table; is that what you mean?" 

"Good - it'd take years to put that in order, wouldn't it? The weeding, rebuilding the beds; all the other stoop work, what?"

Lady Martha caught the idea; "Oh, yes! Even with help, restoring the beds to proper order would be several years of work. There's a new monorail line in, direct to Hassadar, and Sultana; so fresh fruit could reach three major markets when very fresh. Quite a formidable task for anyone - who would put their mind to it!"

They smiled with ferocious smiles to each other; this was a punishment fit for their tastes, not the crimes. Uncle Hebert scowled into his eggs, not happy with the entire blotch on the family; "If putting that lout out in the sun, digging dirt satisfies the two of you, I won't propose anything else. Stuffing him in a barrel and throwing in a lake is what I'd prefer, or run a herd of cattle over him. I don't want him on my land, totally certain of that!"

Hebert was known in the District as constantly proposing to restart hanging in his County, but he recused himself from the nastier cases that came to his County Courts with a variety of stomach complaints. Claire, Countess Vorolney, had sat silently, not starting on her boiled egg; with the words between her husband and Aunt Martha, she sighed and picked up her small egg spoon. The egg was cold, as were the toast soldiers, but after a week of not eating, the mouthful was wonderful.

=================

Room 4-14j (Detention, Single)  
Imperial Security headquarters  
1415 hours

Nigel had been living in this room for five days; four walls, an attached shower and toilet room, a bed, table extending from the wall, and a chair. A Vidscreen on one wall, with access to five thousand Impmil training videos, twelve thousand Government issued documents, and a few old, tired Simgames. Nigel had started critiquing the training vids; writing memos about how they should be remade and made better; he had beaten the few games on the first day. A meal pack came thru the door three times a day; they were much better than Nigel had expected. On one of the few occasions that a guard had stopped to talk with him he'd commented on the quality of the food and the guard told him it was at the specific and direct order of Simon Illyan himself - it seems Simon had been arrested long ago and held in one of these cells; when he was released upgrading the food had been one of his first changes.

He was at the end of a training film on planting and growing maize; a boring effort by the Agricultural Ministry, when the door to his cell opened and his father walked in. The escort with his Father scanned the room, in a habitual way; nodding to Count Vorolney as he entered. 

Nigel rose, timidly, then once the door was shut he and his father rushed to embrace. "Oh, my boy" ; "Oh, Dad!". Hugs and slaps on the back filled the few minutes, until they drew apart.

Nigel gestured for his father to take the only chair; "Sorry, but I don't have anything to drink; all I've got is a water spout in the basin."

"No matter; I'm here to tell you what's about to happen. This last week in the Council has been nasty; about as bad as three months ago, when we had to try and condemn the Clarence family. This week it's been the Voreveroux boy, the Vorbataille boy, and two others. Everoux and Bataille are going to the stocks - Everoux next week, Louis whenever he's caught. Gregor is being very charitable in letting the Family decide your punishment; I thought Vorbataille was having a coronary when the vote got to him - he could barely say 'Pass' . Count Voralys is still in Hospital, fighting for his life, everyone's hoping they don't have to freeze him until a new liver is grown. You're in a deep pile of shit, boy; and there's not a shovel in sight."

Nigel could only look at the floor as his Father spoke; "What about Evelina Vortien? and Stasya Vorkalnins?"

"Evelina is dead, killed by that Oman Vorresiak fellow. Killed at the same time as Count Vorguriev. Stasya is in hospital, getting her face put back together. Her family has been granted the privilege of disciplining her, like us, the Vortiens', and the Vorkalnins'. This whole affair has ripped everything apart; the Council is ringing like a bell. Vorguriev's death broke three coalitions apart; Vortien, Vorbataille and myself can barely show our faces in public - Vorbataille stays in his bed most of the time; his wife has left for their summer home in district; she won't see anyone but her closets friends and relatives. The new Count Vorguriev is in fast transit back from Illirica, where he'd been with a Komarr fleet. His younger brother has been holding the desk; wide-eyed and silent."

There wasn't much to say besides "Oh".

The Count pushed his son down to sit on the bed, he took the chair, facing him knee to knee. "The Family has decided what to do with you; Cousin Auditor Vorparadijs is clearing the decision with Gregor today. You're being sent to Downton Rock; in your Aunt Martha's County. She's got an overgrown berry patch that you'll be restoring; it'll be hard work, but once the berry patch is producing fruit and paying for itself, you'll be a changed man. I know it's in the middle of god-awful nowhere; but that's a better fate than two weeks in the sun, like your friend Marcel."

Nigel looked at his father in horror: "Out there - kilometers from anything? digging ditches? being a gardener? why not kill me now, dad, and get it over with. I mean - turning into a farmer!?!?!" His face was wide with terror and pain.

"You'll be alive; with a chance to make yourself something better. You'll not be a Vor any longer; The Speaker has told me you'll have your turn in the chamber next week for the official attainder; and then it's off to Downton Rock. You'll be attained from ever returning to the Vorbarra district, except by special invitation; and the Family has decided that you can't leave Martha's County unescorted." Count Vorolney tried to keep his voice level, easy. 

"We won't forget you; I've spoken to our Cousin Andre Olney; he's willing to include you in his family rolls, for celebrations and such. His brother, Courtney, is the Farrier there, he's willing to help you settle in. Aunt Martha will be in residence for a few weeks, to keep a hard eye on you; but this is much better than a chain and collar on your neck in the Great Square." 

 

"but - but - But" Sputtered Nigel.

"I just hope Gregor accepts this exile; He might want you put out to exposure on our own lands - and we've not done that for two hundred years. Not since Count Albert III dealt with those rustlers from Vordarian's district, during the Lastead Range War. This isn't getting off easy; but it's better than getting the post."

"So, I stay here for another week, until I go to the Council to get chewed up, and then to a straw hat, overalls, and a shovel, that's it?"

"That's what it should be. I've got to sort out your apartment; you can't take most of it with you; what do you want me to do with your vid and photo equipment?"

Nigel had to pull his thoughts away from visions of strawberry plats. "Um, most of the gear is semi-pro stuff, so the Vid production department at the Uni should take it happily. Talk to Professor Grimsby; he runs the equipment room. I've got a pair of good work boots, and two sets of mil-surplus work gear; I guess all that would be useful on the farm. Um.... On my storage box, I've got files for Vortaine's wedding I shot - the originals and the edited copy. That needs to go to them. Also, The footage I shot for Kathy Montrose's pottery work needs to go to her. 

Everything else - dump it. wipe it - burn it. I bet I won't be allowed near a camera for the rest of my life." Nigel's chin dropped to his chest. 

A though hit him; "Ah - what're you doing to Kravik? He 's a good guy; you shouldn't blame him for all I got into. Don't be to hard on him, please." Nigel's voice raised in a plea, asking for mercy for the Armsman.

"Kravik has offered his resignation; I think I'll accept it, but offer him a spot as speaker or something in one of the smaller villages. Maybe as a line rider in Apple County. I can't ignore all that he did, covering for you, but I can't ignore all he did to try to keep you in line. He's got a wife and kids; so I've got to think about not doing anything that'll hurt them to much. I'll look after him."

"Ok, good. He's a good sort - if I had stayed with him in Bonsankler, I'd have avoided this mess.... But..." Nigel sighed. 

"Yes - but. That's a Big But."

"Look, son, we aren't abandoning you. Our family depends on farming for it's wealth; it's important to us, and everybody. Vat and Lab food aren't enough; so Farming and Ranching are behind everything, in the end. After you've got a few successful crops off to market, you'll know what an accomplishment growing food is; you've always been a city boy - and that's a privilege, a big privilege. Three-quarters of all Barrayar is farming or ranching; with a heavy dose of mining; so being a part of that is nothing to be ashamed of. You're not going to freeze, starve, or be alone; we won't forget you."

Nigel just covered his face with his hands; sitting silently until his father started to leave the room. 

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I'm - sorry. Tell mother - I'm sorry I wasn't a better son. I'm sorry for everything."

"I will. She loves you, she won't forget you - and I won't either"

The Impsec escort closed the door.


	12. Planning to be obnoxious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca plans, Louis goes shopping.

Loius sat staring at his beer. Since they'd arrived in Vorbarra Sultana they seem to have done a lot of nothing; They checked in to a crummy motel outside of the Caravanseri, rested for a day, the Luca had sent him shopping. He'd bought a dozen plastic washtubs, fifty sets of cotton sheets ("They can't be mixed - pure cotton or nothing!"), two sacks of cement mix, and a hundred meters of 25 MM plastic water pipe, and lots of fittings and elbows for it.

While he'd been gone buying stuff, Luca had scanned the wanted paper, and had rented a little workshop on the outskirts; all the stuff Louis bought was stashed there. Right now, Luca was making a list of more things to be bought, and was waiting for a secret message he'd sent to be answered. Louis had the label on the beer bottle to read.

This was stupid; Louis wanted revenge - for Antoni, for himself, for Marcel - for the loss of his racing pinnance. He wanted revenge for the loss of his life; his future, his past.

The speeder bikes they'd left in Prestwich had failed; the new Guarda had been on their toes and had lifted the bikes off to the impound; so when they blew, some old junkers got toasted, instead of the bar crowd. Damn him, the sleazy slime Voralys! He killed Antoni, killed the plan, he and that fourteen toed dwarf Vorkosigan. May he rot in Baba Yaga's stewpot!

'I want to see something nasty blow up; lots of smoke, a huge boom, lots of stuff flying in the air.' that's how he phrased it in his mind for his next conversation with Luca - the brilliant boy from the Whole, who the Bharaputra Woman said was the best sabotage and urban violence man they had. They sent him as muscle, and another guy - Domhall - who was the drug man - with him and Cezar. Domhall had stayed on Komarr, to accept shipments; had he escaped the net after the coffin and corpse switcheroo?

Now it was sitting in this crummy rent by the month apartment, with bags from a second rate fried chicken stand as food. He should be dining on Caviar and truffles on Escobar or Beta - not greasy fried vat chicken here in the slums of Sultana! 

Ain't this the shitz... He took another swig of beer.  
=========================

Luca, who seemed to be doing lots of little to Louis, was hard at work, planning the prerequisites for a double load of mayhem. He'd told Louis time and again, that the best plans have to fully developed before you make a move; and what he had in mind - if his contact had what he wanted - would be spectacular.

'Part once: set up a workshop. Equip it with a chem line to make nitrocellulose.  
Status: partially done. Workshop found, soaking tubs bought, most of the cotton feed stock bought. Plastic pipe for drying racks bought. 

Part two: Need chemicals, mixing and safety gear. Need barrels or kegs to load the stuff for delivery.  
Got to buy the chemicals from multiple sources, a few liters at a time. Other tools and safety gear Louis can buy, along with more sheets; get that done and started tomorrow.

He made a few random marks to himself to make and remember this list.

Part three: Gotta hear from the big contact Baron Borgos said he had in Vorbarra Sultana - he said the man knew everything about the city, the complete who's who - every building and sewer pipe. He damn well better exist, and answer the contact call, or they were finished (He drew lightning bolts on the pad).

Part Four: Set up the production line, train Stupid there to start the chem line. He couldn't trust lazy Louis to do the critical steps right, but the simple stuff - the initial washing, drying, and prep steps he should be able to do... if he can't; well, he's coin in my pocket... if needed.

Part Five: The acid washes and nitration - super critical, have to be in full protective gear; does any surplus shop sell old Milspec hazmat suits? Put Lazy Arse on that.

oh - remember to shave his head, and make a fake beard for the Louse. Get that done ASAP. (The pencil tip pounded the paper on that.)

Part Six: load the kegs, and make detonators. He can make a kilo of black powder easily - remember to buy a small ball mill! and remote triggers were listed for sale in one of the local electronic hobby mags. That's simple. Order a dozen tonight. 

Part Seven: Any other nastiness to plan? Something to hurt Vorkosigan - either of them - would bring good money on the Whole; it seemed like half the Houses had a standing bounty on the Vorkosigan brothers since Baron R got iced. Isn't he getting married soon?

Luca looked at his memory marks, and decided it was time to stop and get some rest. He'd bought a bottle of six hour sleep timers today, time for one down his throat, and Louse's throat as well. 

=======

Louis tossed in his bed. It wasn't that he was on cheap polyester sheets, instead of the 900 thread wonders at his parent's home, it was a fight in his mind - slowly breaking into his thoughts. He thought of the Vorclarence's, his friends - and his lover Antoni - dead at the hands of the Emperor and that slime, Vorpatril. It was seeing Marcel being chained to the post in the Great Square, knowing he'd be days in dying; unless his family did the traditional right thing and got him some poison. He'd heard that a sneaky visitor in the night with a nerve disruptor was safer; they didn't do a deep autopsy on the deceased.

What would it be to feel the collar wrap around his neck? To see all the people around him slowly walk away; silently. He'd felt loneliness in his racer; on long runs in races; but being alone like that, in the middle of a public square; that was loneliness.

And why?

Antoni had a long, deep grudge against the Emperor; like his Grandfather who'd ruined more than a few family dinner raging against what Dorca did to his Grandfather. Antoni had a plan; wipe out Vorbarr Sultana; and the Counts could go back to being independent. Neighbors would cluster together, to share resources; he'd swap grain and steel with VorTyne to get access to the shuttleport. Drive the foreign factory people away, so local businesses would thrive again, not competing with steel made in orbit, and plastics beating out honest wood.

Vor meant leadership; being the helmsman for your district. Vor meant making decisions for your people; Vor meant leadership. The Emperor took all the leadership and held it in his fist; the Counts did what he wanted; neutered and mooing.

I'm fucked. Fucked over two thousand percent. Fucked over by that sleazeball Byerly, by that wimp Ivan "I'm so handsome" Vorpatril, by that cockroach Vorkosigan. If he could escape; get away - go back to the Whole, he might be safe, but the Emperor had a long, nasty arm; Impsec wasn't being run by the mutant machine head Illyan, but this new guy seemed to know his stuff, and every nasty trick and scheme Illyan had on file was in his hands. 

Luca had to come up with something massive - violent, so there'd be confusion to hide their escape; dammit - they can't use Imola to ship them away! Being frozen dead for a few days wasn't nice, but it did work.

He grabbed the sleep timer Luca'd given him; he finally slid into sleep.


	13. The Man Who Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca gets a message; Louis gets steamed.

Luca always got moving earlier than Louis; he'd get sweet rolls or doughnuts or something, including two large coffees before he returned. Louis only got out of bed fast when he was in his yacht, something you had to do when speeding thru the void.

Today Luca was smiling, a very annoying look on his face to Louis's mind; he was still feeling the extra bottle of beer he'd had last night. Damn him for looking chipper when his head still felt like a leather strap had replaced his tongue.

Luca shoved a box of doughnuts his way, then pulled a bottle of orange juice out of the bag. "My contact replied; I'll be seeing him this afternoon. With him behind us, we can really get moving!"

"Where are we meeting him at?" Louis said after he had a gulp from the bottle.

"You're not going. Too much of a security risk. Sorry, but the cops are sure to have their eyes open wide for you; if they pick you up you'll have a bottle of fast-penta mainlined on you just after the handcuffs. I can keep going without you, but not if they know about my contact. Sorry, but OPSEC rules say no."

"Well, that jaks."

"Getting caught jaks worse. Today, before you leave, your head gets shaved, and I'll show you some tricks for disguise. Buy yourself a cheap pair of big sunglasses, and wear them everywhere. Go buy a pair of high heel boots - like those riding boots all the officers wear, they'll change how you walk, and that'll help hide you. And buy a really stupid and bright floral shirt or two, so people look at that instead of your face. "

Luca sat across from him; "Look, I know you want in on everything, so you can feel a part of all the mayhem we'll be unleashing. But if you get caught it's all over before it's started. If you know to much - like who I'm meeting, then a huge hole will be blown in the Jacksonian network here on Barrayar. If it's intact, then someone can follow up and finish what we'll start. This is a big fight; between the Barons back home and the busybodies here. This is war, and battle plans gotta be kept secret. Spin?"

Louis slumped a fraction; "Spin. I keep on being delivery boy, and you - you do the thinking. I want to start doing something serious soon; snarf it; not this stupid errand boy shyte."

"My plan is to make a few hundred kilos of nitrocellulose - Guncotton - and plant it in a sewer under or close to a major building, like Impsec, the Residence - even under the Great Square. Let it wait until a lot of people are present - and POW! blood, guts, and flying heads everywhere. Maybe get a few Counts, or Generals, or a lot of Impsec insects. Do some damage that really leaves scars; dig? You're buying the kit I need to make the stuff - the chemistry is simple; but it's tricky. We've got to soak the sheets you're buying in a mix of Sulfuric and Nitric acid, then rinse the heck out of them and neutralize the remaining acid. Then, we pack the sheets in those beer kegs you've found - and instant bomb. The guy I'm off to see has been in Sultana for decades, collecting facts about the city for use in a time like this. He gathers info on everybody who's important; sends it off to the Barons, they pick thru the reports - and if a juicy tidbit pops up.... the cost of quiet can be high. He's got orders to help; I can get more cash from him, and maybe new IDs; and give us info on big events that're coming. Without him we'd be jumping blind; with him we can see - simple, right?"

Louis had to agree with Luca's reasoning; he knew about the Vorbarra Sultana social scene - or did - but things like the sewers or subway tunnels were blank to him. They couldn't just jump a hover truck over the fence at Impsec Headquarters; he knew they had Anti-Air guns hidden around the area to stop things like that. The Great Square and Residence had them - they got used during the Pretender's war; the Grand Square had to be patched several times during it. Vorhartung Castle had the same; and darn few vehicles got inside that perimeter without a full check. You'd have better luck driving onto the launch tarmac at the spaceport! 

"OK.' Louis winced; "Cut my hair, shave my scalp, dress like a hick - and keep shopping. What else?"

"Here's a list; rent a truck and move it yourself; can't risk having a delivery driver gossip to his boss. Spread your buying across the city; not to much at any one spot, especially the acids. Buy several protective suits and lots of filters; the fumes from the acid mix will be nasty. You got taught about handling corrosives and dangerous chemicals back in Ship Captain school, right?"

"Yep, handling and cleanup; most of the rocket fuels are nasty, eat you up in an instant." 

"Remember all of that for this; if you can get fuel handler's suits from somewhere, they'd be perfect. That's what we need the cement mix for - to safe the acid mix. We'll be leaving a real mess for the hazmat teams, a little bonus for our work.... and maybe a keg of two that we'll have extra, hmmm?"

Louis sat quietly after Luca left; steaming in anger. Heading to the residency to take a potshot at Gregor wouldn't work, or trying to fry Vorkosigan or Ivan. Impsec or their Armsmen would be on him in a flash, next stop a post in the square. Luca wanted to survive, to watch as those piggish twenty toed batters wept looking at the rubble; preferably in a bar on Komarr, or somewhere farther away with a beer in his hand. 

He looked at the list Luca left, more sheets, plastic tubing, all sorts of plumbing bits - he must have an idea of What he was doing...

Louis looked in the mirror in the bathroom; chop off your hair, he'd said... crisp. I'll trim it tight, and stop at a barbers to get it high and tight. The stuff grows back, after all...

================

Luca looped thru three downtown Department stores, stopping in one to buy a stylish hat and fancy sunglasses. Satisfied that he'd had no tail, he entered a tall building, went up twenty floors, down two on the stairs, and up three to his target. The glass sheets marking the lobby had several Counts' crests, the company name, and a line of Gothic text "Since Dorca 4". Luca knew this was a fraud, but the bolder the lie, the better.

The secretary announced him to a senior vice president - offering him tea or coffee while he waited. Finally, the woman he wanted to see arrived, ushering him into a conference room. 

====================

Luca left three hours later with a plan, a place, a method - and an unsettling smile on his face.


	14. The scent of a trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impsec and the VBS Police have a problem; how to find two poisonous peas in the big pod that's Vorbarra Sultana. 
> 
> Good police work involves wearing out many, many shoes... and some inspired guesses.

Paulina Zapata knew that her husband couldn't talk about his work; she'd admitted that half of his life would never be known to her, as he was a Detective on the Vorbarra Sultana Police Service. When he'd been a patroller, he'd come home worn and torn - with plasters and bandaged for the physical injuries; the worse tears were in his heart, when he'd seen how horrors had been done to others.

She'd had to hold him for hours, sometimes, before he could get to bed, or eat a bite; him holding her tight in his inner pain. He tried not to mention the cause of his pain; she'd read the news the next day - and held him tighter afterwards, to bandage his soul.

When news broke about the attack on the Emperor, and the stabbing of Count Voralys; she knew he'd be in the investigation. He barely came home during the week; she took him new clothes, and a basket of food - for that she was praised by the officers at the patrol station - a home cooked meal was loved by everyone. When he did come home it was to shower, eat a fast plate of food; stand in the garden for a half hour, silent, just listening to the little noises of life. 

The news feeds blared about the search for the perpetrators of the assault on the Emperor, how they were related to the crimes of the Vorclarence family; and the new evidence of betrayal. Paulina knew the real story was more complex; when at the station delivering meals she heard names not in the news broadcasts; "Vorbataille"; "Tarpan"; "Nigel".

He managed to come home that night; eyes bloodshot and his back sore. All he asked for after his shower was a large bowl of cream of chicken soup; saying his stomach was complaining something fierce. She sat at the table with him as he slowly spooned the soup in, his eyes shut, enjoying each spoonful. He took in two bowls, and four rolls, before he leaned back with a smooth face. She went a dishcloth, and gently pressed it to his face, cooling his face and scalp; staying silent feeling his tense brow relax.

He hadn't said anything since sitting down to the soup, the wet cloth on his face bringing a hum from his throat, his head rolling back.

They stood together, a unit; feeling and sharing, their breathing in tempo. She smoothed the damp towel over his head and ears; onto his neck, under his chin. He purred; like a satisfied cat; eyes shut; relaxing in her care. 

She finished by wrapping the towel around his neck, scarf-like; tracing fingers up his face, following the lines his hard work had grooved; to an end on his forehead. She rubbed gently, lowering her face to touch the crown of his head with her cheek. The moment held.

She straightened; "Now, you finish your soup before it gets cold; I'll warm some blueberry muffins for a sweet. You've had your shower, so go have a lie down. You'll be a new man after that, and I'll make a basket for you as a midnight snack." She bustled off; he sat silently, then mechanically picked up his spoon to finish the soup.

She was soon back with a basket of warn muffins; carrying the butter dish on top of the rolls. "Oh, those smell wonderful, dear." He managed a good try at a smile, smelling the aroma of warm muffins. As she put the basket down, he grabbed one of the muffins, tore it open, and smeared a huge chunk of butter on the bread; delaying for a moment to admire the yellow spread as it melted into the open roll. He reached full smile with the first bite; She smiled as he drifted away in the few mouthfuls that the muffin provided. 

"You've told me that it's a small thing that can crack open a big case, dear - I saw something today that's odd; very odd. Can I tell you?"

"What sort of odd - you didn't see someone with a sign saying 'I want to blow up the Castle, make a donation', did you?"

"Oh, no - I was at the Homestore; buying sheets for our Geoff; and they were out! Out of cotton sheets, that is. Someone had bought the entire stock over the last three days; according the the clerks. He hadn't touched the pillows or duvets, or the towels; just the pure cotton sheets. I found new pillows and a nice duvet; and as I was at the cashstand; The clerk pointed him out to me. He had two trolleys, filled with sheets; and was paying with cash - He had a huge pile of fifty mark notes; just pulled it out of his pocket."

"That's odd; Only buying sheets, nothing else? And paying cash?"

"That's right; from a huge rolls of bills. He was dressed odd; like a tourist, Flowery shirt, big floppy hat, sunglasses - I was expecting him to be wearing flip flops; like for a day at the beach; but he had on boots with high heels. He was very odd."

"Well, you didn't get a photo snap of him, did you , dear?"

"No, but I did take a snap of the car he loaded the sheets into. It looked like a hire car, from the stickers on the windscreen."

"Good girl! Anything else?"

"Well, I went to the Homestore at Overton Mall, there on the north side; and I swear I saw the same car in the lot there! I didn't see him in the store; but someone had been buying lots of sheets there as well; I could barely find what I wanted for Geoff; their stock was so low. The clerk said a man had been in yesterday and almost stripped the shelves bare - they'd barely filled the shelves today, as it was; The central warehouse hadn't sent all they'd ordered overnight; as the main stock was drawing low. That's got to be odd, isn't it?" 

He sat up in his chair; "Darling, You're coming with me to the station tonight. I want you to tell the Chief and Constable exactly what you told me - and bring those snaps with you. Put your coat on, I want to be out of here in ten minutes!"

She was stunned - never had he ever had that tone with her; never! He was concentrated, solid; in a way she'd never seen. "Right now? In my housecoat?"

He softened a bit - "Go change into something nice; but hurry; bring the rest of the muffins with you."

===============

Paulina had never been in one of the questioning rooms; she sat, somewhat frightened after the Patroller had shown her into it. Husband had disappeared down a line of offices; she knew them from visiting him during his shifts; but this room was - cold. Her basket of muffins scented the air a bit; the red dishtowel seemed the only color in the room, but it seemed duller under the strip of lights on the ceiling. 

Husband had taken her callpad with him when he left her at the front desk; before the patroller had led her to this room. She couldn't hear much in the room; she tightened the coat some; the room seemed so - frigid. The glass pane in the door was frosted; the patroller was standing at the door; with his shadow showing on the glass.

She heard their conversation first, then their urgent footsteps. It almost seemed that the door burst open when the Constable entered; his uniformed body overfilling he room. She knew Constable Milling; fed him supper and dinner many times; but he was frightening now; a hard shadow in this over bright room. Her husband followed the Constable; tight on his heels; still talking about something; " -wanted news of odd things; this is the oddest thing I've heard so far -" the Constable raised his hand. 

"Mrs. Zapata - Pauline. We're very worked up on this investigation; so please understand our urgency in hearing your story. You've done nothing wrong - This is a disturbing matter, so please settle yourself." He drew one of the chairs from the table; settling himself across from her. Her husband stood against one wall; with two other officers. A Junior placed a special console on the table; next to her basket of muffins; it chirped and hummed a bit until the junior motioned to the constable that all was ready.

"Now, Mrs. Zapata - Pauline; would you state your full name, house address, and Social Registration Number is a clear, firm voice. This is being recorded, and may be used in any trial that comes from this investigation. You may be asked to repeat your statement today under oath; but this is not being taken as your formal word or voice. This is to assist our investigation; and you are not a suspect, or a person of Interest. You've seen something unusual, and you are reporting what you've seen to the Police; not knowing any significance or meaning to what you've seen. Do you understand this?" The Constable had been reading from a small card; only looking at her when he'd finished.

She looked at her Husband; he smiled at her and waved his fingers to proceed. "My name is ...."

Once she'd told her story; the Constable had her repeat some sections; the location of the two stores; what time of day it was - with special interest in what the man looked like. She named the clerks at the stores; repeating the size of the roll the man had. "It was the size of my fist"; she raised her hand, showing the fist she could make. "Maybe larger, It took a bit for him to pull it out of his pants pocket, it did." 

The Constable sat back when she'd finished. He frowned a bit, then spoke to the Junior, telling him to start a visiosearch for photos. The Junior typed for a moment on the console's keys; it made a few burping sounds, and an image of a man floated in the display above the box. It was an animation sketch; The Constable queried her a bit on details; to match the image to what she recalled. The Junior tapped keys, and the image sharpened, colors and shaped changing to match her description. She apologized for not getting a image herself, "But people do take offense if you snap their photo unasked, you know." the Constable waved that away. 

The image finished looking very close to what she recalled; even the bright floral pattern of his shirt showing. When she said that it was him, the Constable motioned for the Junior and two extra officers to leave the room. Her husband sat next to her, taking her hand.

"Mrs. Zapata - Paulina - I thank you for bringing this to us; We are all working hard on a very important case; and it's little things like this that can lead us to the perpetrators. That isn't to say that your story is linked - in any way - with this case; it may be that an individual has a reasonable purpose in buying so many cotton sheets. We hope to find him, and clear our minds of his involvement. If you see him again; ignore him as you would anyone else you see in the store; but tell me or your husband when and where you see him. 

It's a poor thing to be suspected of something by the police; so we try to keep these things as private as possible. Once a stain touches the skin, it never seems to come off, what? So don't spread word of this to anyone, even your best friends. If the man you saw is innocent, you wouldn't want to be a trouble to him, just so." The constable twerked his brow at her.

"If this man is involved in some crime, the Prosecutors office will call you in to make a sworn deposition. You will be asked to repeat what you've said here, as closely as you can. It's understood that you can't say a thing exactly, but what you've said here must be as similar as possible to what you say at the deposition. If you remember something later; tell your husband so he can record the extra and bring it to me. You may never learn if what you've told us is helpful; which can be maddening; it's you coming forward that really matter to us. You have my thanks, and the Empire's thanks." The Constable rose to stand at attention when he mentioned the Empire; her husband did as well. She did a little curtsy in her chair, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the formality and importance ; it was long past her retiring time. 

The Constable continued; "We may have some images for you to inspect is a few days; your husband will bring you here if that's needed. We will keep your name in deepest confidence; being a Detective's wife it's not uncommon for you to visit the station at all hours - we look forward to your visits - may I say I think you do a better pork pastry than my wife? Don't let that get out - I didn't say that, not even if the Emperor himself, or Simon Illyan! asks!" The Constable made a rare smile at that.

"Thank you, Sir; Bringing snacks here for my husband, and having them shared and appreciated; well, bless me, it's no trouble. If I see that man again, or his car, I'll call my husband at once, certainly." She made a little curtsy to punctuate the sentence. "Did he do something wrong?"

The Constable smiled; "We know there's a group of people planning to do a major mischief; The man you saw could be one of them. In fairness, we don't know - so we must be cautious in this. Please, return home with your husband, and if we need you, your husband will be with you. - and thank you for the muffins, they smell delicious."

=================

While the Constable was interviewing Mrs. Zapata; the photos she took were inspected. The license plate and registration of the vehicle was extracted; and the rental agency codes. Within minutes a full report was ready on the car; where it was hired from, for how long, and who did it. The leaser had hired two cars that day; so a second file was opened on this second car; the traffic scanner system was primed to report when either passed by a scanner station. The hire report included an image and signature; the signature a featureless scrawl, the photo showed a thin faced, semi-bald man with a thin nose. 

It was too late at night to visit the housewares stores; the lead Detective left orders for both stores to be visited when they opened. One of the Detectives suggested that any builder's supplies in the area be visited - if these people intended to make a bomb; then they'd need supplies from somewhere - that became his assignment for the next week. 

Everything was packaged and sent by the Chief Constable to his superiors; then he went home to a shower, meal, and sleep.


	15. Louis goes for a ride...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to skip a LOT of stuff soon; I could write too, too, TOO many words about setting up the guncotton factory, and Detective Zapata's quest for the two miscreants. 
> 
> Sod that for a pint.
> 
> We pick up with the explosives in place, and Luca and Louis are starting their escapes. 
> 
> Gregor needs to be sealed in a nitrogen filled tube soon, so he won't burn to ashes.
> 
>  
> 
> But, back to the situation room.....

Common Operations Conference Room (Three)  
Vorhartung Castle  
Vorbarra Sultana  
0900

Again, a wonder was occurring, the air conditioning was working, the mood of the room was dour; report after report that nothing worth reporting was available. Last week's meeting had been tremendous; with the report of a very mysterious purchaser of many kilos of cotton sheets, and a detailed forensic report starting with the rental vehicle the person used. A week's investigation had led to an empty workshop; and that led back to many purchases of plastic pipe, wooden studs, many power tools - and chemicals. 

This week - nothing. 

Gregor had been happy last week; everyone could see that when they discovered the coffee maker was full and plenty of cups were available. this week.... it was dry. 

"So, we have a strong idea of what Luca and Louis are doing; but they've found a new workshop, and we've no clue where it is." Gregor, stating the embarrassing obvious facts.

Count Vorbohn, as head of Police Services, had the duty to respond; "Quite so, Sire. Mr. Tarpan seems to be a very capable operative, and he's practicing his tradecraft with admirable, in other circumstances, fidelity. He and Mr. Bataille have gone invisible; but, knowing what they are doing, our search for them is simplified."

"How so?"

"If they are making nitrocellulose - Guncotton - they are using a large quantity of sulfuric acid; which has a distinct aroma - and they are using it in kiloliter quantities. disposing of the used solution isn't easy; and the acid has a pungent, notable smell. every patroller has been told to be on the alert for strange odors, signs of illegal dumping of acid solutions, and reports of theft of the acid. He has a large 'footprint' from this operation; one so large finding traces of it won't be hard. the military has activated it's Chem Warfare units, with chemical sniffer trucks; to help localize unusual emissions." The Count gestured to General Miller, who continued the briefing. 

"We have five sniffer units quartering Vorbarra Sultana; concentrating in the industrial and commercial zones;" He fidgeted with the display console, a map of the city appeared, with areas coded in colors. "working with information from City Services about what companies have licenses to use strong acids in their processes, we can isolate them, knowing that we'll get positives close to them. We expect to finish our initial sweep of the industrial areas in 40 hours; and will expand into - "

The door to the briefing room burst open, a Captain burst in, waving a flimsy; "We got him!"

"Confirmation of the ID just came in - Louis Bataille was taken into custody at Vorbarra Sultana Spaceport at 0730 this morning." The Captain handed a fistful of flimsies to General Allegre; and another to Count Vorbohn. "He was traveling under a false name and ID; with two other people. He was covered in some goop that confused the gene sniffers, but the chem sniffer screamed an alert.... 

 

==============

Five days before.

Louis knew there was a problem.

Luca had stopped talking to him; always busy with some other task. Louis kept busy running sheets thru the nitration bath; unfolding sheets; soaking them in water to clean them, then spreading them out to dry. He mixed the nitration solution; a nasty mix of Sulfuric acid and Potassium nitrate powder; the solution got hotter than hell; so Louis also was collecting ice from two big commercial units; to chill the nitration bath. The sheets went into the bath; Louis had rigged up a bubbler system to keep the solution mixing; but nothing he could do stopped the acrid, heavy fumes from choking the reaction room. 

Repeat, gasp, repeat - wash the sheets, then into the solution, then out - rinse and neutralize; then hang them in the drying room.

Luca looked in from time to time, to verify the process was working right; he'd take a few feet of random sheets and test them in the freight yard in the rear of the building; all flashed into nothing with a touch from a lighter. 

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

He'd produced a few hundred kilos of the stuff, when Luca came to him.

"Louis, it's time for you to leave. I've got two helpers from my local contact to finish the run, and others who'll do the packaging and placement. I know the shyte's about to hit the fan; and you need to skip up to Komarr to be safe. My partner in Solstice messaged me that he'd sent a 'Gift' down to that Vorkosigans' bitch of a bride - a little wedding gift - and when it does it's thing this town's gonna explode."

"What was it? Something deadly?"

"He read in the gazette that Vorkosigan was getting married, so he made up a little nasty - pearls soaked in poison - and sent them to her, labeled from one of Vorkosigan's old squeezes. If she wears them for over six hours; her liver will turn to snot, and then that toadstool will go into orbit. He'll be out with bloodhounds and tigers trying to find either of us. Impsec has your number; so getting you out of town has to happen - as in right now."

Louis could see the logic in Luca's words. If this trick worked, Vorkosigan would check every building of Sultana one by one to find him, legal or not. He was sleeping at the factory; eating redi-meals; staying invisible, but he could see he'd been to lucky so far - luck that always ran out. As a racer pilot he knew about cutting close to an edge to win; but if you didn't survive, the risk was to high.

"OK, It's time for me to go. What about all this?" He gestured to the production line; "I've only made a third of what you wanted. You sure these new people can run this line?"

"Sure; you've got a good system going, I can teach them in a day. What's important is you being clean to pass thru station security; You'll get gene checked, sniffed for explosives - like you're not painted with the stuff - and other things. Before, I'd shove you into a cryotube; but that's now covered by the snoops; so it's a walkout job for you.

Two escorts are arriving tomorrow from up hill; they'll clean you scalp to toenails;and walk you thru the gates. Shut the line down; get some rest." Luca turned away to head back into the front office.

==========

0700 Vorbarra Sultana open spaceport  
Departing passenger security and customs scan  
Line 12-B

Louis didn't feel like himself.

This was very good.

A matter of survival.

The two men Luca had sent him with had taken him to a hotel close to the spaceport; had him strip, then scrubbed him clean with a series of odd soaps. He'd brushed his teeth a dozen times over four days; had his scalp shaved twice - had almost everything shaved. they did let him shave his delicate parts, thank ghod!

In compensation, they did the same to themselves; including shaving each other's backs. The three of them used laxatives to flush their systems - not on the same night, oh ghod thanks for that!

One of them - Nixon - left to buy new clothes; the old ones got dumped in a charity chest - a set of 200 mark shirts and pants - gone! That hurt.

Now, Louis was in line for outbound screening. He knew what this was; he usually went thru another line in another terminal, as a ship owner; but the drill was the same. Put your bags and personal stuff on the conveyor, walk thru the scanners - and occasionally submit to a patdown. 

Between scrub downs, the duo had made him memorize a new identity; he was a machinist from a remote district, off to Komarr for a training course. They'd even dirtied his fingernails with grease, for effect.

Just a mechanic, off on a training jaunt; looking in amazement at all the sights of the big city.

Someone in this situation would be a bit nervous; which made the disguise that much more honest.

Kennedy had already passed thru the scanners, and was waiting in the concourse at the newsstand. Nixon was two people behind him; with papers to show him as a bonded courier from Escobar - which is how he'd entered, a week before. They hadn't arrived in the same shuttle, or from the same hotel. Kennedy hadn't had anything happen as he'd passed thru; the terminal was full of people departing after the Winterfair season. The guards were busy watching for people who needed help; not wanted felons. 

Fifteen minutes of danger, then everything would be OK. That's what they'd told him. Fifteen minutes till you're free.

Hell in fifteen minutes.

Finally, his time. Step forward, arms away from his side, wait for the chime that said 'Clear'.

The chime sounded, the tech on the console didn't look up.

Two steps forward.

Two more steps. Into another scanner. Wait; wait for the blessed Chime.

'Chime'

Four steps, grab your things from the carrier bin; nod to the guard; walk like you've got the clearest conscience in the world.

He headed to the bar inside the concourse; a drink - a large, triple strength drink - was needed. Kennedy started drifting to the bar; having bought a bottle of water and a few packs of headache pills, and a refill for his datapad.

Just two travelers, both waiting to get a drink.

Safe.

Oh, glorious safety.

Nixon joined them at the bar; a few placed down; still not interested in anyone but a martini.

Louis was crowded by another passenger; who was as eager as he was the solace of booze.

Until he felt the nose of a stunner pressing in under his arm. And smooth voice in his ear.

"Louis Bataille, you are under arrest for treason, attempted murder, and various other crimes. Will you come quietly?"

================

Common Operations Conference Room (Three)  
Vorhartung Castle  
Vorbarra Sultana  
1015

Allegre waited for the jabber to quiet - made faster by Gregor raising his hand. "Sire." scanning the pages quickly; "Louis and two companions were arrested at the Shuttleport two hours ago. The officers on site waited for ID confirmation before releasing the news. Louis has been DNA matched; which was difficult as he'd been coated with some compound to disguise his actual DNA. His two companions were know agents from Jackson's Whole; with valid Courier licenses; onsite PORTSEC flagged them when they entered the terminal, and, expecting that they might be escorting Bataille, did extra checks on everyone in line with them. Louis tried to escape, but was taken down with a stunner shot. 

PORTSEC had to scrub him clean of the coating, to get an uncontaminated sample; they delayed reporting the arrest until the had a solid match.

Interrogations have begun."

Gregor leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back, eyes squeezed shut. His hands shrunken into fists. The room was silent; even the AC was quiet.

"Strip them to the bone, General; to the bone. Fast Penta, lead lined hoses, some of the new things under test by the labs. They know what Tarpan is planning; squeeze them like a used dishrag. 

Dismissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write this where Luca and Louis made the poisoned pearls for Ekatarine, but the timeline wouldn't support it. Buying the pearl set, treating them, then sending them up route to Komarr or somewhere to be 'mailed' by Ellie Quin (all markings faked, or course) - it didn't work. 
> 
> Having Luca's partner on Komarr do the work did fit the timeline; needing only one trip down to Barrayar, not two. I had a long sequence where Louis gets a sample of Kat's hair, so the toxin could be tailored to her, but... if it doesn't work, toss it. 
> 
> This is the morning of the day when General Allegre returns the cleaned pearls to Ekatarine and Miles, when he announces Louis and two associates were captured at the Spaceport. 
> 
> Yes, Gregor is pissed. He's feeling Yuri's hand on his shoulder...


	16. Spoiled milk and overcooked bacon for breakfast.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca is not happy.

Luca Tarpan swore for three minutes when his contact at the Survey company messaged that she hadn't received a safety signal either Kennedy or Nixon two days after they'd left. 

-No signal meant they'd been caught. With them caught, idiot boy Louis had been caught.-

-Oh, Bakion - with cheese fries on top!! Thrice served cold!!-

-Time to pull up shop - or no?-

He had four hundred kilos of gun cotton already prepared, loaded with detonators. -Deleting the current workplace would be easy; the remaining Sulfuric acid solution would mean he didn't have to dig graves for the two helpers.-

It was time to use the last contact he had from Vorclarence; -return to Prestwich and find Darien, the old Patroller chief. Restart the drug syndicate; right under Count Voraly's nose... perfect. Darien can provide two SBWM people to help load the bombs onto the tunnel; Then set the timer and go.-

Luca Tarpan sat in his lair and brooded.

===================

Room 5b15  
Imperial Security Headquarters  
Vorbarra Sultana

Louis Bataille felt wonderful.

He was floating so high, higher than he'd ever felt in zero-g, or on any of the drugs he'd tried on Jackson's Whole.

No troubles touched his mind.

What was left of it, considering the combinations that had been dripped into his veins.

Things were so nice, floating like this.

float  
float  
float

====================

Room 5b12  
Imperial Security Headquarters  
Vorbarra Sultana

Albert Nixon just waited.

Wait, wait, wait.

He'd been in police custody before; it was natural with his employment. Carrying, questions unasked, unknown suitcases full of unknown objects meant that police and other boring officials asked you question.

He answered as best he could, every time. 

"I was given the briefcase in the offices of (Company name redacted) on June 13th; with instructions to carry it to a Mr./Mrs./Ser/Maam (Name Redacted) in (City, State, Planet Redacted) in as efficient a method possible. Once at the Destination, I was to turn the case over to whoever showed me the proper IDs. That's what I did, and nothing more. I had no messages for the destination, besides my hope they'd call on my company again if they needed secure transportation."

This time; the questions were different.

Not about where he was from, but where he was going; and the how and where.

The arrest had been professional; and so was the questioning.

Except...

He didn't remember ever having a needle in his arm....

The bandage on his arm, and the small bruise, said he had received one. 

That was troubling.  
===========================

Room 5b18  
Imperial Security Headquarters  
Vorbarra Sultana

Fred Kennedy lay on the little bed/couch. He'd eaten the packaged meal they'd shoved thru the catflap on the wall; it was better then he'd expected. The room was boring, in the way industrial architecture always was; if it had a decent oil or watercolor on a wall it's be identical to the stateroom on the outbound ship.

But this wasn't.

He felt his arm; he could feel the little lumps that came from hypospray injections, and the larger lumps from needles. He lost track of time back in the shuttleport holding room, when the guard had nailed him, and Nixon, with a stunner.

How long had that been? A week? Not a month, his nails hadn't grown that much.

Probably a week.

He must have spilled his guts; told everything; who his contacts were, regular and emergency; both here and on Komarr. The entire network was blown, effectively.

He didn't know much of what Bataille had done; but it must have been serious. He and Nixon almost had diplomatic immunity, as bonded couriers; Once their official bosses heard, there'd be diplomatic trouble for Barrayar. It wouldn't hep Bataille, but he and Nixon would get released, barred from Barrayaran space forever - well, there were plenty of other deliveries that had to be made, in other systems.

But now... Barrayar, under Simon Illyan, knew how to make someone a ghost. And since ghosts don't exist, they don't make remarks or replies about them. This new Impsec boss, Allegre - well, was he as good as Simon? 

He lay back and dreamed....


End file.
